


Make Me Fade

by That_One_Yaoi_Kid



Series: Summit [5]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, M/M, Nightclub, Quickies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 15:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11466855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_One_Yaoi_Kid/pseuds/That_One_Yaoi_Kid
Summary: Carl wishes he just stayed inside tonight, as now he faces an old, horrible habit.





	Make Me Fade

**Author's Note:**

> Never seen any Jesus & Carl? No? That's changing today, ladies and gentlemen!

_ Monday _

 

“What’s on the to-do list tonight, Carlton?” Enid cheerfully asks when Carl answers his phone. 

 

Rolling his eyes, Carl looks at himself in the mirror, tossing his dull hair around. “I think I’ll go out tonight, how about yourself?” Enid gasps on the other line, but Carl cuts her off. “I’m going alone, E. Please, just let me have this night?”

 

Enid sighs, “You sure? Was the date that bad?” 

“Oh shut up, Enid. No, the date was fine. If it wasn’t I wouldn’t be letting you talk.” 

 

Enid giggles, “Whatever makes you happy, Carl. I think Lydia and I will just stay inside tonight, have fun. Hopefully, Patrick won’t find you again or I’ll murder him in twenty different ways.”

 

“Relax, I can handle myself. Goodnight, Enid.” Carl laughs, hanging up. 

 

He tosses his phone on his bed and turns back to the mirror, fiddling with his hair a little bit more. “Alright, let’s see how this works out.”

\--

An hour and a half later, Carl has showered, dried his hair and tied it up in a waterfall braid. He changes into a dark red cocktail party dress w/ black lace shoulders and black bow heels. He does his face some justice with dark red smokey eyes and burgundy lipstick. 

 

He decides to leave his phone here but grabs a small wallet for a few hundred dollars and his ID. He locks his house up and leaves, electing to walk to  _ The Dancing Dead. _

\--

When Carl arrives, his feet are sore but he doesn’t slow down. He’s able to get in quick, dressing nice to a club gets you pretty far. 

 

Once inside, the club vibrates with the base of some pop song Carl’s heard a few times on Enid’s iPod. There’s the main dance floor right in the middle with the second floor having a large overview of it, pink, purple, blue, and green hues light up the large square. The main bar is just to Carl’s left, the bathrooms on either side of it. He can see another bar just behind the dance floor and the DJ booth is against the wall on the right.

 

Carl adjusts his dress before making way over to the main bar. He shoulders through the crowd, receiving different reactions of his outfit; some women are disgusted, others are giving him little smiles and winks, some men chuckle, and others admire the view, a few grab his ass. 

 

He ignores them though, not bothering to listen to them shout about him being “not cute anyway”. Carl isn’t a huge fan of catcalling, but a few have led to one night stands.

 

When he finally reaches the bar, he gingerly takes a seat and orders a Sex on the Beach. While he waits, he picks at the pistachios. His drink is placed in front of him and before he can take a sip, Carl feels a hand on the small of his back and a beard tickles the back of his ear, warm and minty breath ghosting the shell of his ear. “Well hasn’t it been a while, sweetheart?” 

 

Carl’s nose scrunches up when he recognizes the voice. “Not long enough, Flake.”

 

The old friend laughs loudly, leaning back so it’s not directly in his ear. “We back to using nicknames, Carly?”

 

Suddenly, a hand on the back of Carl’s neck moves his head to face the old friend. Jesus’ blue-green eyes meet Carl’s glassy blue ones and it doesn’t take another beat to pass between them until their lips are crashing together, Carl diving in first of course and Jesus smiles into the kiss.

 

The man that was sat to Carl’s left quickly gets up to give the two space, chuckling faintly and Carl gently pushes Jesus back onto the chair, their lips parting just enough for them to breathe. 

 

They’re panting heavily, staring into each other’s eyes. Carl shakes his head, laughing quietly. “Damn it, Paul. I thought I’d never have to see your damn face again.”

 

Jesus smirks and his breath ghosts over Carl’s lips, “Yet here you are, falling into my arms.”

 

Carl returns the smirk. “Yeah, but not for long. You’re just another one night stand, I’m not letting you be anything more, Flake.” 

 

Jesus tilts his head, “Oh really, now? Funny how that is exactly what you said when we first met!” He chirps happily and Carl rolls his eyes. 

 

“I was different back then, Paul. Don’t push it, you’re lucky I’m even _ looking _ at you. You were my nicotine last year, you were a fucking tumor in my brain.” Carl snarls, leaning away from Jesus to watch his face. “I’ve got someone else now, so don’t ruin it for me, Dip.”

\--

The two grunt as Carl is slammed against the bathroom door before it can even shut. Jesus’ hands are on him in seconds, sliding underneath the skirt of his dress, caressing his thighs and rubbing up and down his sides. Their lips are locked, and Carl moans as he feels that familiar tongue clash with his. Jesus tweaks with the small pink buds on Carl’s chest and the boy cries out impatiently, leaning away from Jesus’ mouth to whisper harshly, “Enough foreplay, shithead, or this ends right now.”   
  


Jesus chuckles, moving his hands down to Carl’s black boyshorts. He gently pulls them down and Carl gently shoves the man away, slipping his dress off and hangs it on the purse hook on the bathroom door, he removes his boyshorts and tosses them aside. He stares expectantly at Jesus who has elected to cross his arms over his chest, still dressed in his many layers of clothing.

 

He smirks and starts stripping his layers; a loose leather peacoat, a padded navy blue sleeveless top over a black button-up and a white wifebeater which he elects to keep on, he tosses his beanie aside and slides his black pants and black boxer briefs in one go. 

 

He grins over at Carl as he watches the boy look the bearded man up and down. “Would you quit grinning and being an asshat so I can get laid already?” Carl snarls, lunging towards the man and capturing his lips in a heated, impatient kiss. Jesus responds by gripping Carl’s ass, and Carl jumps up, wrapping his arms around Jesus’ neck and his legs around his waist.

 

Jesus moves Carl so he’s sat on the sink, back against the cold, foggy mirror. Carl arches his back against the cold, hissing but grunting when he feels a finger press into his hole. “Goddamn it, Flake.” Carl hisses, as he feels the finger intrude further.

 

“Relax, would you? After all this time I don’t want to hurt you.” Jesus warns, beginning to thrust his finger in and out, trying to work another digit in. Carl laughs breathlessly, but his pain eventually morphs into pleasure when Jesus fits another finger in and he licks and nibbles on Carl’s neck. 

 

Jesus begins working the second hickey on Carl’s neck by the time he’s fully stretched with three fingers in pressing against his prostate. Carl whined, wiggling on those fingers, “Hurry up. And I’m not begging.”

 

Jesus rolls his eyes and chuckles but obeys nonetheless. He removes his fingers and takes Carl off the sink, shoving him face first into the wall. Jesus wastes no more time and lines himself up, slowly pushing inside of Carl, who is moaning and panting like a bitch in heat.

 

Jesus pauses when he’s fully seated inside, his head just barely brushing Carl’s prostate. He groans, unsatisfied by he wraps his fingers around his length anyway, trying to make do. “Didn’t remember you being this small, Flake.”

 

“Oh, fuck you.” Jesus is panting too, grunting every now and then as he sets a steady pace.

 

“You already are.” Carl moans at the pace, and he can tell when Paul’s release lurches by his thrusts quickening, becoming frantic and unsteady.

  
Carl’s hand moves in time with Jesus’ thrusts, and he shuts his eyes, trying to imagine Negan is the one doing this to him, not this addictive shithead. Except he knows it’s not Negan’s large hands holding Carl’s hips in place, and he knows it’s not Negan’s cock inside of him, but a boy can dream.

 

Carl releases with a whimper, white strings drip from his cock and over his fist, and he feels himself tighten around Jesus, to which the man groans breathlessly as he cums deep inside of Carl. 

 

They sit there for a while, and Jesus finally pulls out of Carl and the millennial straightens up, grabbing a few paper towels and turning the sink on, and he cleans himself up. Jesus is sated, ready to fall asleep against the tiled bathroom wall. 

 

Once Carl’s cleaned up, he collects his boyshorts off the ground and puts them back on, along with his dress and Jesus starts doing the same. And Carl doesn’t hesitate once he has his shoes on, to turn and leave Jesus in that nightclub bathroom, no more words were needed.

 

Carl makes his way through the crowd again, getting the same looks and the same compliments, but no one grabs his ass. Carl figures it’s probably because he smells like a whorehouse, after not being able to wash the smell of sex off of himself. 

 

He also figures Jesus is pushing and shoving through the crowd behind him, calling out his name, but Carl can’t hear him, doesn’t want to anyway. He keeps moving, and he lets himself outside, sober and aware.

\--

When he finally makes it home, his feet are really sore now, and he tosses his shoes off and slams the door shut behind him. Silently, he presses his back against the door and slides down it, leaving his legs sprawled out in front of him. 

 

He stares at the wall in front of him, staring into the darkness of his living room, and the darkness of his kitchen. He inhales slowly, “Goddamn it, Carl.”  


End file.
